Unforgotten
by GenesisArclite
Summary: A year into her life in the new world, Lightning has one last encounter with, and final goodbye to, a familiar face from the old world. Oneshot. No pairings.


**_Unforgotten_**

Idyllic. That was the best word to describe the quaint little home they had made for themselves out in the green, sunny countryside of this strange new world. Open pastures and blue sky stretched out on either side, right on out to the horizon. The occasional thunderstorm stirred the skies and drenched the greenery in fresh, clean water – storms summoned by the natural weather patterns of the planet rather than by the hands of powerful crystal beasts. The air smelled sweet and warm, thick with the scent of wildflowers and nutrient-rich soil. Even the sunshine felt cleaner than ever before on her skin. It was, simply put, absolutely perfect.

It was too perfect.

She knew she shouldn't complain. She had accepted the part of her she had tried so long to destroy. Humans tilled the land with their own hardworking hands. There was agriculture, and livestock, and industry, built and shaped by the hands of humanity as they saw fit. In the quaint home covered in flowering vines, her dear sister lived and worked with her husband and their two adorable little children. One of them had just been born, while the other had just turned ten months old. The heroes lived in a rural town they had cultivated out of soil and stone. Life had become exactly what they had all always wanted.

She knew it wouldn't be taken away. She was no longer "Lightning", a tool of false gods, a soldier or a warrior of any sort. Just "Claire", simple Claire, living and working in a world of humans with no one breathing down her neck and telling her what to do. They had worked hard for this, defied all odds, and been graciously rewarded.

Life would have been perfect, but for the memories of those who had been lost.

Of _what_ had been lost.

Claire knew she was the only one who even cared anymore, at least to this extent. She knew she was only one with any real memories of the old world. Perhaps they had been stamped on her soul more fiercely due to having been in the midst of the long string of wars leading to this perfect life. Perhaps because, though her body had been made anew, the scars and aching sense of loss remained on her heart.

She had tried to let go, to move on, and forget. After all, her first real glimpse of the world had set her smiling more radiantly than ever before.

But as time wore on, and the months became a year of paradise, she found it harder to forget, not easier.

She still dreamed of the old world, and still remembered it.

The enormous, colorful flowers of Pulse, to which she had yet found no equal here. The radiant green fields dotted with wildflowers and surrounded by lacy waterfalls. Bioluminescent flowers of green and blue that bloomed only at certain times of the year. The glowing white foliage of the Whitewood. Part of her still longed for that world, for she had not recognized its beauty until it had been completely lost.

But she smiled for Serah's sake, and laughed, and enjoyed her life as an aunt. She had a family now, a place where she could belong. There was an orchard full of apple trees just outside, and right now, in the spring, they were in full bloom, their sweet perfume carried on the wind into the house's open windows. While she still slept alone, having not found anyone she wanted to share her life with just yet, she had, for the first time, truly opened her heart to the possibility of finding someone. She just… wasn't ready yet.

The last chains were the memories, and even if she made it days without them crossing her mind, her subconscious brought them back in flashes of dreams in the night.

This morning, as she often did, she just stood at the window, leaning on the sill, and stared at the apple blossoms. Songbirds chirped in the branches as the lazy breeze stirred leaves and blossoms. Behind her, in the kitchen, Serah worked at cleaning something with such gusto that she wondered if her sister loved anything (besides her two lovely children and almost irritatingly optimistic husband) more than cleaning. Her job was best described as "working housewife", splitting her time between a part-time job in the nearby city and taking care of her home and growing family. Claire admired her for that.

"Are you just going to stand there and stare, or do actual work, sis?" Serah looked up from her scrubbing of a large pan with something flaky and black cooked onto its bottom.

"What do you need?"

"Snow has to get the dryer fixed, so can you just grab the clothes out of the washer and string them up? Put them so the apple blossoms make them smell all pretty." Serah hesitated and frowned. "Are you okay? You're looking thoughtful this morning. Are, uh… is something wrong?"

_Memories. Dreams. The lost_.

"No, I'm fine."

Her sister didn't look the least bit convinced; Claire went into the laundry room and emptied the washer, finding the contents almost sopping wet when she did. Somehow, she got them into a basket without making too big of a mess, kicked the door closed, and carried the basket out into the sunshine. Two clotheslines had been strung up between the house and the nearest apple tree. Putting the basket down, she set to work on this most mundane task, hands moving quickly but deliberately in familiar rhythms. Pants hung like this, shirts went like that, unmentionables on the second line so they weren't visible from the road–

Halfway through, her hands slowed their work until she was just standing there, clinging to one of Snow's shirts.

_What's my purpose here?_

Life was peaceful. She had earned it just as much as anyone else. And that was fine. She knew that was inevitable. It was inevitable that she'd wake up every morning trying to plan out her day, only to realize there was no reason to. Serah was here, and Snow, and Sazh, and Dajh, and Noel, and Yeul, and Vanille, and Fang, and Hope, and all the others of the old world that had truly mattered.

A few were missing. Some because they had died long ago. Some because they couldn't have been saved.

People she had known and should have cherished.

Swallowing her discomfort, she shook her head and continued on with her mundane but very important task. They would have wanted her to be happy here. She was happy. Why _shouldn't_ she be? Just because she didn't need to fight to survive didn't mean anything. Humans made their own progress now. They lived, grew, and changed with the promise of an entirely new future. It was fine now. Everything was perfect. Blue skies, summer rains, green fields, wildflowers, waterfalls, apple blossoms–

_Memories. Dreams. The lost_.

With one shirt left in the basket, she stopped again, feeling something tug at her heart. It would take time, but each day got a little bit easier. Every smile was genuine, every laugh carefree, each day she woke up free of the chains of darkness and existing as a pawn a blessing she had to remember to hang on to.

_Memories_.

They would fade with time.

_Dreams_.

She simply needed to discipline her mind.

_The lost_.

But the one place she couldn't quite scrub all the stains and memories out from was her– was her–

"To think that I could find you so easily."

A gasp escaped her, a spritz of familiar and terribly missed adrenaline shooting up her spine, as her warrior instincts took over and she whirled in place, reaching for a sword that wasn't there, knowing she hadn't imagined the voice, but not knowing where it had–

The name that shot from her lips had not been spoken by _anyone_ since their arrival here.

"_Caius_."

The cheery apple blossoms looked even brighter when they bobbed beside his very still, very dark form. He looked the same. _Exactly_ the same. Like when she had first laid eyes on him – a shadow shaped like a man, tall and strong as ever, but there was no smugness there, nothing at all but an expression she couldn't read no matter how she tried. But that didn't matter. Not right then.

"You're–" She snapped out of her trance, but stared openmouthed. "How is that–?"

He leaned against one of the trees, so she knew that, at the very least, he had solid form. Even the breeze stirred his hair, so _he was really here_, maybe ten feet away, gazing steadily at her. Hardly the image of something to fear, no matter the memories. Hardly something to hate.

Forgetting her task, she advanced toward him, one cautious step at a time. Halfway there, she stopped. "I guess it's really you," she said. "I thought you said you couldn't be reborn here."

His expression didn't change. "I cannot."

"Then how are–"

"I cannot remain here for long. I had to break open a rift between this world and my own. Yeul is keeping the chaos there at bay, but the longer I stay, the harder it will be to seal the breach."

His words clenched her heart.

"You really _are_ one with the chaos."

He had been standing with his arms folded, but now he raised one hand. From it emanated a smoky substance she recognized immediately. A twinge of discomfort crossed his features. "I was able to drag myself out of the chaos and reshape myself enough to come here, briefly, as you remember me." Dark eyes came to hers, meeting them directly, and for the first time, she wasn't the least bit afraid. He wasn't threatening her, nor was he on the verge of lashing out at her. Right now, he was nothing more than a man.

"Reshape." She took a few steps closer. "You're not actually yourself anymore?"

"My fate will be the same as Mwynn's." The bitterness combined with emotionless acceptance in his voice chilled her to the bone, despite the sunshine. "Soon, I will lose myself to the chaos." He hesitated. "That is the fate I chose for myself long ago, though I knew it not then. Only those with the strongest of wills could ever hope to maintain themselves. I do not wish to, but I do not know if I will achieve complete oblivion or unwanted eternity in a realm drenched in death. At the very least, I will maintain my purpose as a guardian of this world's foundation."

"But, you got what you wanted, didn't you? You're with all the Yeuls you loved and protected, for all eternity."

"It is hardly paradise, Lightning. More like Hell."

When she looked a bit more carefully at him this time, she saw, truly, the centuries – the millennia – of darkness in his eyes and the lines of grief etched on his features. A hollow shell, indeed. A reflection of what he had perhaps once been long ago – the fierce, proud warrior with a future. Now she saw nothing frightening at all, where once, she had been afraid of him. Valhalla had made them enemies, but in the world's final days… she felt as though, only then, had the veil between them been lifted.

And she had never taken the chance to see what truly stood on the other side of it. What truly stood inside _him_.

She couldn't hold it in anymore.

"You should have _been_ here." She bit the words with her old, familiar way of using them as lashes of a whip, but they were not spoken to hurt. They were spoken _because of_ hurt. It was the secret she kept hidden in her heart, deep beneath the thick armor plating she had been setting up around the memories. "You should've _been_ here, along with all the others who had been lost. You were cheated out of _everything_. A normal _life_, the chance to _die_, to even be able to– to just– to–" Anger burned just under her skin. "It's not _fair_."

"It is my fate, Lightning, and I have accepted it."

"Claire." She looked him right in the eye. "My name is _Claire_. Call me… call me by my _name_."

He stared a moment, the lines of his face softening. "Claire," he said, in the softest of whispers. His eyes roved over her, down to her feet, and back up. "You are so thin."

Only this reminder called her attention back to that fact after so long. "Muscles aren't needed when you're not fighting for your life every day," she said, looking down at herself for a moment. "I noticed when I first got here, but I kind of forgot in the months since then."

"Months?" The word came out in a broken whisper. "How _many_ months?"

"It's been almost a year."

His features hardened again, but his carefully-controlled expression nearly cracked all the same. She only noticed because she knew him, better than she thought. As his gaze moved away to look around at the paradise of this beautiful new world, she saw his expression crack again before he caught it. The breeze stirred his hair about his shoulders, the highlights moving and changing in the dappled sunlight.

_What sort of future would have been yours?_

"Are you happy here?"

Her lips trembled. "Yes and no."

"One or the other, Claire. It cannot be both."

"It _is_ both. The memories are still with me, memories of the old world, of Cid and the NORA group and… and you, once in a while. You cross my mind. I haven't forgotten about you."

"Memories erode your happiness?"

"Sometimes."

"You deserve to be happy."

Hearing him say that was like being punched in the heart. "Don't start that. _You_ should be here. I couldn't save you, but I didn't even try. I could've _lived_ with myself if I'd tried, but I _didn't_. Not _once_. I made the effort with Snow, and with Noel, and even Vanille, but with you– I just didn't even–"

Her voice cracked just before it shattered.

"I didn't even _try_."

There were a few moments of silence before he spoke again. When he did, his voice was as smooth and soft as honey, soothing to her ears, going straight through her armor to gently caress her heart. "There was nothing you could have done for me. My fate had been sealed long ago, when the corruption first began."

"Maybe you _were_ beyond all hope, but I didn't even _try_."

As if understanding there was nothing he could say, or do, he straightened from leaning against the tree and took a step closer. Claire felt something sting her eyes and clamp down so hard on her throat that she felt as though a noose had been drawn around it. The core of her hurt stood before her. The foundation of her memories.

"My time grows short." His voice grew taut. "Is there anything you wish of me?"

_Find a way to stay with us_. "I just have one question."

He nodded. "Anything."

She looked at him for a moment, for the first time seeing his centuries of guilt. It would soon be over. He would let himself go. He would try to fade away because he chose to, having a will strong enough to go on, but trying not to. It was the last defiance he had in him, his final act of rebellion against the cosmos, a long shot in the dark. If it didn't work, he would continue existing as a guardian surrounded by death and chaos.

Either way, she would be the last thing he saw.

"Why come see _me_?" She suspected she knew the answer already, but it was wordless, a feeling without any sort of name, lingering in the depths of her heart and whispering to her the truth. When she had first arrived in Valhalla, her sole task had been to protect Etro from him. The memories of the past had carried her forward into a future without end. Now, she wondered if she should have just gone home when he told her to, because it had ultimately made no difference in the end. "Why not Noel, or Yeul? _They_ were close to you. _They_ knew you. Of all the people to appear to, I'd think I would be the _least_ likely."

His eyes were serious. "Because they have moved forward, but your heart still aches."

Bitterness welled up inside her. "I'm just a lucky survivor, Caius, and part of me is still in the old world. It's with Cid Raines, and the NORA group, the people of Cocoon, and with–" At her sides, her fingers flexed. "You. After all, you help make up what I've become." A wry smile twisted her lips.

"Then, forget about me."

The smile faded. "You're as likely a memory to fade as any of the others I made in the old world. Even if everyone else forgets, I won't. I _can't_. Awful as some of them were, they shaped us, and they were the path that led us here."

Pain crossed his features, twisting them, as he winced and briefly closed his eyes. "You can be so _stubborn_."

"No more or less stubborn than _you_, Caius Ballad."

"You will never forget, will you?"

She fixed her eyes on his. The expression of pain lingered, and she could tell he was barely holding himself together. When he vanished, the last vestiges of the old world would go with him. All they had fought and bled for would be gone forever. "No, but I'll keep you safe, in my memories, and in my– in my heart." _Where the stains can't be scrubbed out, and the memories will be safe for all eternity_.

She had seen him smirk and be able to express many emotions with just that one expression. She had seen him sneer at her, laugh at her, mock her, and shout at her. In more recent times, she had seen him gaze at her with such steady and intense emotion that she had felt her walls being stripped away.

The one thing she had never seen him do was smile.

That was what he did now.

"You know you cannot be truly happy until you forget."

"I stopped Bhunivelze in part because he wanted the living to forget the sacrifices of the lost."

"You will at least try to have a happy life?"

"Yes." She hesitated. "And I'll tell stories of 'the great warrior' until the day I die."

It happened far too suddenly. It felt as though the last ounce of catharsis she could have gotten out of this meeting slipped out of her fingers as though she had tried to catch the wind. It was only when his solid form began to fade did she realize that she wasn't ready. There were so many things to say. She still had to try and work through what they had done to each other, what they had been through, try to figure out what sort of future he would have had here, something he could pass on to the others, something that could be–

It was then she realized she was crying.

The chaos that had once been this man she had simultaneously loathed and pitied replaced the dappled sunlight beneath the apple tree for a moment, the shadows carried on the wind into the sky, spiraling up into the blue, and she tipped her head back to watch him go, one hand reaching out almost against her will. His name fell from her lips, but she knew that, if he could hear her, his ability to understand was fading fast.

The chaos did, however, summon a mind of its own, long enough to twist a tendril around her outstretched hand. In her mind, images flashed through, and they all showed him at her side.

_In other timelines, there was an 'us'_.

When he became an inky spot against the sky, a flash of golden light winked in the blue.

The rift, she knew, sealed behind him.

She wanted to cry, laugh, smile, and scream all at the same time. It was over. Just like that, too many long years of her life spent trapped in Valhalla had slipped through her fingers and vanished forever from this world. He would go back to where he belonged and make his final decision: existence surrounded by death, or oblivion. Even if he chose the latter, would he truly be lost? Would he really be gone? Or would he still exist alongside those he had destroyed the old world for, never allowed to rest?

She remembered the shirt, somehow, placing it on the clothesline as deliberately as ever before taking the empty basket back to the laundry room.

"You were out there a long time," Serah muttered. Now she worked at a pot nearly the size of her head while her daughter sat in a chair and stared at the food that had been placed before her, elbow-deep in spaghetti sauce and bits of cheese. Claire half-smiled at this. "Did something happen?"

Claire looked at her sister. "Well, uh–"

_There was an 'us'_.

"–nothing too exciting, I guess." She looked at her niece. "I'm thinking I have stories to tell my family now, though. Interesting ones that they'll pass on to their children, and grandchildren, until they become local legends no one will ever forget." The smile that spread across her lips now was cheerful, but tinged with sadness.

"Well, maybe you can tell her stories and get her to eat. I'll be right back." Serah set the pot down on the counter with a huff and left the room.

Claire looked at her niece – dear little Summer, beautiful little Summer – and walked up to her. She gently took the girl's hands out of the spaghetti and cleaned them off with a rag. "I guess it's best to start the legends early on, so you keep asking for them, huh?" she said, and smiled. "Well, should I tell you about a great warrior?"

Summer stared at her, mouth hanging open.

"Oh, you're interested in _that_, huh? Well…" Claire tugged gently on the girl's tiny hand. "Well…" She wasn't quite sure how to begin at first. Then, it came to her. "You see, once upon a time, there was this fantastic world, and it was full of magic and gods and people working to defy their fate. And, early on, there was this man, a great warrior, who aspired toward the greatest defiance of fate anyone could ever hope for…"


End file.
